


Consul

by aadarshinah



Series: Tales From The Ancient!John 'verse [5]
Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, The West Wing
Genre: Ancient John Sheppard, F/M, M/M, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aadarshinah/pseuds/aadarshinah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stargate Program's not going public yet, but somebody still has to tell the new president what's going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Inauguration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [popkin16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/popkin16/gifts).



> The Stargate/West Wing crossover that nobody asked for (but which I'm blaming popkin16 for). To make everything fit, I've adjusted the Bartlet Administration to match up with the usual dates of presidency, so that his first Inauguration is held on 20 January 2001, meaning that everything's moved up about two years in that series. And, as always, this takes place in my [Ancient!John 'verse](http://archiveofourown.org/series/11336), and will be completed as the main storyline catches up with everything else. 
> 
> Oh, and the _consul_ was one of 2 heads of the Roman Senate. This, of course, takes place the day after Barlet's first inauguration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This installment takes place between "[Unfinished Business: Serpent's Venom](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3541931)" and "[Unfinished Business: The Light](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3550277)."

**21 January, 2001 – Washington DC, Earth, Milky Way**

It is an exceptionally cold morning by Washington standards – that, at least, is what the natives tell him. It is exceptionally cold by New Hampshire standards as well, but Jed doesn’t tell them that. He mentions instead an anecdote he knows about the invention of the snowplough and uses the distraction of their glazed-over eyes to rub circulation back into his hands.

It’s even colder in the basement. Leo, waiting at the bottom of the landing, is still wearing his gloves and overcoat, and Josh beside him is breathing into his cupped hands, blinking blearily in the manner of the extremely hungover.

“Did we forget to pay the heating bill?” he asks them both, purposefully louder than he needs to be. It’s cruel, but it’s also four-thirty in the morning. If he can function on three hours of sleep and more champagne than he can honestly remember, so can they.

Josh perks up. Despite the smudges beneath his eyes, he appears remarkably cognizant. If he went home after the last Inaugural Ball, it was only to change clothes. “Prank gone wrong, Sir. Some of the departing staff decided it would be funny to mess with some of the valves in the steam trunk distribution venue, though in their defence I think they were trying to make it very hot instead of ice cold. Donna’s on it.”

“Does Donna know anything about central heating?”

“No, but she does know how to wake up people who do,” Josh says, grinning broadly now. “Any idea what this meeting’s about? My schedule just said to be down here.”

“I think it’s a tour of the Situation Room, followed by the Daily Intelligence Brief.”

“You don’t need me for that.”

“We do in case something ever happens to me.”

“You’re not allowed to talk like that,” Jed says firmly, clapping his friend on the shoulder before continuing, “and I think this is the place, unless we have Marines in dress uniform outside every room down here. Gentlemen?”

* * *

 

The Situation Room is emptier than he imagined. The only people inside are Admiral Fitwallace, two servicemen in dress blues, and a civilian in a stripped suit and dark tie that have seen better days. They all stand when he enters and refuse to take their seats until he’s taken his.

That’s going to take some getting used to.

“So, Fitz, what’s this all about? It doesn’t look as if somebody’s declared war on us since last night.”

“Not quite, Sir. Let me introduce Colonel Jack O’Neill, Major Samantha Carter, and Doctor Daniel Jackson. They’re here to read you on to the military’s most top-secret program.”

“I thought we covered those yesterday, after the Inauguration.”

“This is a core clearance only. The three of you are the only ones in this administration allowed to be read on to the program, baring any change of directive, and I must ask that any discussions you may have about it in the future be contained to this room.”

“That important, huh?”

Fitz nods, then gestures at the civilian. “Doctor Jackson, if you would?”

Jackson fiddles with the papers in front of him for a moment before placing both hands on the table and leaning forward to say, “In 1928, an artefact was uncovered at a dig site near the Pyramid of Khufu by Professor Paul Langford. Its initial purpose and use was unknown, and it was brought back to the United States for further study shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War. We eventually determined that the device, called the Stargate, was a means of creating a stable, artificial wormhole to other devices like it throughout the Milky Way. The Air Force, in conjunction with a handful of civilian contractors like myself, have been running regular missions through the Stargate since October 1997.”

Jed looks at Jackson for a long minute. He seems earnest enough, but, “Fitz, tell me this is just another change of administration prank, like the heat.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t do that.”

“I thought as much. Continue, Doctor Jackson.”

“If you don’t mind, Mister President,” the female officer, Major Carter, interrupts, “before we allow Daniel to go into the historical implications of the Stargates, you may wish to hear about some of the missions we’ve undertaken in the last four years, particularly with regards to the off-world allies and military actions we’ve made.”

This is not what Jed recalls signing up for when Leo asked him to run for president.

Speaking of which, “Military actions?” Leo asks, directing his question to the third officer, Colonel O’Neill.

“We’ve had a couple run-ins with a species called the goa’uld. We tend to object to their habit of enslaving entire planets and they tend to object to us making our objections known with really big bombs.”

“What Jack means to say,” Jackson adds quickly, “is that the goa’uld are a parasitical race who use human beings as hosts, oftentimes against their will. Until the burial of the Alpha Gate sometime in the late fourth millennium BC, they masqueraded as Ancient Egyptian gods, kidnapping humans on Earth to be their slaves on other planets in their control. We’ve been at war with them since we first encountered a member of their species on a planet known as Abydos.”

“To some success,” Carter cuts in. “We’ve destroyed the forces of Ra and Sokar and made significant inroads against Apophis.”

“Although we did accidentally let Osiris out of captivity last month.”

O’Neill coughs pointedly, “One thing at a time, Daniel.”

“Ah, yes, well.” He opens the remarkably thick folder in front of him, flips a few pages, and slides it across the table to Jed. “Why don’t we start with the First Abydos Mission?”


	2. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earth reestablishes contact with the Atlantis Expedition. Somebody better let the President know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is incredibly confused, this takes place between [Pastor](http://archiveofourown.org/works/260361/chapters/407376) and [Martyr](http://archiveofourown.org/works/260380/chapters/407405) in my Ancient!John 'verse. In short, _John Sheppard is and always has been an Ancient_. As for the Sam/Jack stuff, it's all covered in [Fratris Filii](http://archiveofourown.org/works/306512) if anyone's interested. 
> 
> Timeline wise, this takes place between "The Siege, Part 3" and "The Intruder" in SGA S2, between SG1's S8 and S9, and between The West Wing's S5 episodes "Han" and "Constituency of One."

**11 August, 2005 – Washington DC, Earth, Milky Way**

 

In his four-and-a-half years in office, Jed has learned one thing about the folks over at Stargate Command – well, two things, but the second is really more of an observation – and it is this: they take their secrecy very, _very_ seriously, to the extent that they sometimes make the NSA look like careless schoolchildren. And, for some reason, they seem to think that secrecy works better at god-awful hours of the morning.

“Jack!” he says with as much warmth as he can manage before the sun has risen, “I know my new head of Homeworld Command did not have his Commander-in-Chief pulled out of bed at one-thirty in the morning for a social call, so what terrible news do you have for me today, General? Who’s decided to blow up the Earth today? I thought you defeated all the bad guys after that stunt on Dakara.”

Major General Jack O’Neill grins, pushing the coffee carafe his way. “I come bearing good news, Mister President: We’ve successfully re-established contact with the Atlantis Expedition. The surviving members of their senior staff gated back to Earth three days ago. We’re in the process of debriefing them now.”

“Surviving members? Who did we lose?”

“Colonel Marshal Sumner, the Expedition’s military commander. As I understand it, he was tortured by alien forces shortly after they arrived in Pegasus. His replacement chose to shoot him rather than allow him to continue to be tortured after it became clear they could not rescue him.”

“His replacement? That would be the young lieutenant, Ford, am I right?”

“It should have been.”

“Should? What aren’t you telling me, General?

Jack plays with his coffee cup as if unsure precisely how to proceed before simply diving in and saying, “They found an Ancient – the last surviving Ancient – in stasis. He calls himself Iohannes Ianideus Licinus Pastor, but the Expedition’s taking to calling him John Sheppard. Since he had military training, Doctor Weir asked him to take over as military commander after Sumner’s death.”

“What about Ford?”

“He appeared to have supported the measure whole heartedly.”

“Appeared? I’m not liking the use of past tense here, General.”

“Another mercy killing – there were witnesses to this one, and you’ll be able to read all about it in the debriefing packet just as soon as we have it.”

Still, “That’s a lot of mercy, Jack.”

“Tell me about it. Sheppard… He seems like a good guy. Don’t get me wrong, he still represents a threat to Earth and the Atlantis Expedition that should be discussed, but Weir _and_ McKay both seem to trust him. Hell, _I_ want to trust him. He kept the Expedition alive for a year when he could have easily allowed them to die. But still, an alien as base commander is probably not the best idea anyone’s ever had.”

Jed hums. “So when do I get to meet him?”

“I don’t make the rules, Mister President. The Directive your predecessor signed – and you agreed to – says that aliens aren’t allowed in The White House until the Program’s been declassified.”

“Yes, and it also says that you’re not allowed to walk on the moon until then either. You want to walk on the moon? Let me met with Sheppard.”

“As tempting as that is, Sir, I don’t think even you can schedule a trip to Vancouver before _Daedalus_ is scheduled to return.”

That gives Jed pause. “Vancouver? As in Canada? What in God’s name is he doing there?”

“I believe he’s visiting Doctor McKay’s sister – with Doctor McKay, of course.”

“Why would he want to do that? Hasn’t anyone told him about our national parks? We’ve got some wonderful national parks out west. Or what about our Earth women? Aren’t aliens supposed to be interested in our Earth women? That’s what the movies tell me anyway.”

“Somehow,” Jack snorts, “I don’t think Sheppard’s all that interested in our women.”

“Oh? You mean he and Doctor McKay?” Well that’s something he can safely say he’d never have suspected. “He couldn’t have chosen a nice American man? And just what exactly is so wrong with Americans that the last Ancient in existence would chose a Canadian over one of our own?”

Jack holds up his hands in defeat. “Don’t ask me, General. I just call ’em like I see ’em.”

“Yes, well, keep me in the loop,” Jed says, starting to stand. If only he could tell Abby about these things. She’d probably get a bigger kick out of it than he does.

“Actually, Mister President, Sir, there was one more thing.”

“Something else, you say? Well, go on.”

“I need to retire.”

“Retire? I just promoted you.”

“For which I’m incredibly grateful. But,” he pushes a single typed sheet across the table, “Carter’s pregnant.”

“Oh,” Jed says, feeling his eyes narrow. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

“We got married last year in secret. We were trying to keep it quiet until she was out of my chain of command. But…”

“Ah, well, that changes things. Accidents happen, Jack. Tell me, do you love her?”

There’s no hesitation. “Very much, Sir.”

“Then that’s all that matters. So, no, I won’t be accepting your resignation – or hers, either, unless its what she truly wants. I’ll get my people to write up some sort of exception or waver or something so the press doesn’t destroy you when all this finally goes public.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Just one question: how long has this thing been going on between the two of you?”

“The wedding was last March.”

“But how long have you been together? Since before my first Inauguration?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jack admits, looking somewhat ashamed. Jed can’t say he blames him. The press will have a field day with this after the Declassification, even if they did get married in the end. But Jack and Sam are good kids. After all they’ve done for Earth, they deserve to be happy, even if it bends a few rules.

“Well then,” he says, pushing back his chair, “Leo owes me twenty bucks. Tell Samantha congratulations for me.”


	3. The First Hundred Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're looking Declassification down the barrel of a gun, but somebody still has to make sure the new administration is up to speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after SGA's S5 "The Prodigal", after SG1's _Continuum_ , and immediately after The West Wing's S7 "Tomorrow".

**23 January, 2009 – Washington DC, Earth, Milky Way**

 

It’s been three days, but it doesn’t quite sink in that he’s actually the President of the United States until he sees a three-star general stand and salute when he enters the Situation Room in the small hours of the morning, dressed in slippers and a dark blue bathrobe with the seal of office on the pocket.

“Nice threads,” the General says. He’s an older man, hair more white than grey, but appears to mean every word, which is always refreshing in this town. His is not a face Matt recognizes, but flag officers seem to be crawling out of the woodwork lately.

“Has something happened in Kazakhstan?”

“Not that I know of. Besides,” he gestures at the only occupants of the room Matt recognizes, “I don’t think we’d need your Chief of Staff or your Deputy Chief of Staff for that.” He inclines his head at Josh. “Nice to see you again, Mister Lyman.”

“You too, General. How’s the family?”

“We’ll show you pictures, after. But first… Daniel, you want to do introductions this time around?”

The civilian seated closest to him rises awkwardly back to his feet, taking the stack of folders from the table in front of him and handing them to those not in uniform. The room is oddly quiet without the various aides and functionaries in the background. It has the odd effect of making everything seem that much more real. “I’m Doctor Daniel Jackson. You’ve already met Lieutenant General Jack O’Neill. Also with us are Colonel Samantha Carter,” the female officer at the far end of the table inclines her head, whips of greying hair escaping from the bun at the nape of her neck, “and Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell,” the younger male officer gives a slight wave, his ostentatious watch glinting in the light. “They’re here with me today to help me brief you on a top secret program that the United States Air Force has been running in conjunction with an international consortium of the top scientific minds from around the world. The Stargate Program, as we call it, has been sending personnel through an alien device recovered in Egypt for just over a dozen years now. We now maintain eighteen bases throughout the galaxy and operate five starships capable of intergalactic travel, the latest of which, the _Phoenix_ , Colonel Carter has just been given command of.”

Matt looks over at Josh. “And you knew about this?”

“I’ve known about it since they read President Bartlet onto the Program,” he admits sheepishly. “Though, to be honest, I never had much to do with the day-to-day operation of the Program. That was more Leo’s area.”

“And you still thought it was a good idea to have me run for president?”

“Are you kidding me? It was a brilliant idea, not the least because they finally decided on a date for Declassification – March 1st, 2012, right before Super Tuesday. You couldn’t lose re-election if you tried.”

O’Neill coughs pointedly. “Not to rush you, Sir, but we have a lot to cover this morning, and that’s before we get to Atlantis.”

“Atlantis?”

Carter gives the General a _I saw what you did there_ look, the sort that Matt would never have dared give his superiors while he was in the service. “As in _The Lost City_ , Sir. We discovered its location approximately five years ago and sent an Expedition through the Stargate to learn more. There they found an Ancient in stasis – an alien, one of the species who built the Stargates, the last of his kind. After a series of events that it would take significantly more time to explain to you than we have now, this Ancient and several Expedition members broke away from the SGC. They’ve since formed a Confederation of Planets in their galaxy and have become our allies.”

“For now,” Mitchell says ominously, earning him an elbow to the ribs from _both_ Doctor Jackson and Colonel Carter.

“What they mean to say is,” Josh cuts in, “the situation is complicated, but the folks on Atlantis are our friends and are likely to stay that way unless we attempt hostile action against them again.”

“Again?”

“Maybe it’ll be better if we start at the beginning,” Doctor Jackson suggests, leaning across the table and opening Matt’s briefing packet to the page he wants. “October 1996: the First Abydos Mission and the start of the Tau’ri-Goa’uld War.”


	4. First Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlantis has recently splashed down in the Pacific, naturally, the President is going to want to use this chance to meet the alien that's caused them all this trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this feels like it ends abruptly. This is really sort of as far as I ever imagined this going. There may be more one day, when AJ catches up, but this is it for now. 
> 
> Takes place after the end of all the series involved, shortly after Atlantis has touched down on Earth in "Enemy at the Gate." Oh, and Naval Support Facility Thurmont is better known as Camp David.

**31 August, 2009 – Naval Support Facility Thurmont, Maryland, Earth, Milky Way**

 

“Josh,” Donna says as he finishes getting ready, digging around in his luggage for a pair of socks that actually matches, “What time is the delegation from Atlantis supposed to get here?”

He frowns, more because it’s not like Donna to forget things like this than his wayward socks. At the end of the day, the only folks who’ll care if he has one black and one blue sock are the people reading the papers four years from now, when the photos from this event are Declassified with the rest – and then only if someone bothers to print them in colour. “Not for another hour.”

“Then who’s that talking with the President?”

Abandoning his sock hunt, he joins Donna at the window of their cabin and starts swearing violently – because there, not fifty yards away, is President Santos in the middle of a conversation with two people he only recognizes from surveillance video and candids with all identifying landmarks blacked out. “I’ve gotta go,” he says, stuffing his feet into shoes without bothering with socks at all, and gathering up the handful of folders and accordion files he needs.

“Alright, but remember-“

“I’ll introduce you later,” he promises, flashing a quick smile and getting a quick peck on the cheek in return. “I gotta-“

“Go.”

* * *

 

They’re laughing when Josh reaches their table, waving away a pitcher of lemonade and asking for ice water instead – well, not Sheppard. Sheppard asks for tea, as hot and strong as they can make it, apparently unaware of the fact that it’s the hottest summer Fredrick County has seen in a hundred years.

“Ah, Josh,” the President says. “Look whose flight got in early.”

“Good to meet you Colonel Sheppard, Miss Emmagen. Not to be rude, but I thought Major Lorne would be joining us today as well.”

Sheppard looks at his extended hand curiously for a long moment before shaking it, as if the gesture is something that he’d read once in a book and never had the chance to practice. Even so, it’s a strong handshake – a presidential handshake – that seems at odds with the slight beachcomber accent in his, “Well, the last time I was on Terra nobody could seem to remember they were supposed to have dropped the treason and espionage charges they had on him, so I thought I’d spare everybody the problem this time around and just come myself. ‘Sides,” he adds, slouching back in his patio chair, “’Lantis wants to renovate since we have to do the repairs anyway, and ‘Helianus is the only one of us who can hold a conversation on colour swatches for more than five minutes.”

“I see,” Josh says uncomfortably, taking the remaining chair.

“What John means to say,” Miss Emmagen says warmly, “is that Lord Helianus is quite busy, but may be able to attend later sessions if we can be assured of his safety.”

“Of course,” the President says before continuing, “I understand you wish to return Atlantis to the Pegasus galaxy as soon as possible.”

“Rodney thinks he should be able to get everything up and running again within two months, provided we are given access to the materials we need.”

“Which,” Miss Emmagen says sharply, giving Sheppard a _let me handle this_ sort of look, “we would of course be willing to trade for.”

Now they’re talking, Josh thinks, and leans forward eagerly, “What sort of deal are we talking about?”

Sheppard pulls a USB drive out of nowhere and sets it on the patio table between the potted plant and Josh’s mass of files. “The solutions to the Navier–Stokes equations. Not much on their own, but they should help you build a _linter_ that won’t shake quite to much in atmo, among other things. Your people can work out the details.”


End file.
